


Chicken Soup

by quillquiver



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Chicken Soup, F/M, Fluff, Protective!Rose, all crazy adorable, delirious doctor, get well soon, sick!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-02 11:03:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quillquiver/pseuds/quillquiver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Doctor is sick (and quite possibly delirious?) and Rose cares for him. All the fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chicken Soup

 

Rose Tyler hadn’t been aware that she had never heard the Doctor sneeze until the sound of it resounded through the TARDIS console room. She murmured a: ‘Bless you’ unthinkingly, only noticing some time after the fact that she had never heard such a sound come from the Time Lord. It was then that Rose turned, a frown on her face. “You okay, Doctor?”

He sniffled, wiping his nose with his sleeve as he nodded, though the action lacked some of his usual enthusiasm. “Oh yeah, brilliant!” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. Come to think of it, he’d been a little off as of late. Nothing that had seemed too serious, so the blonde had given him his space... But he’d definitely been less energetic. Rose had attributed it to the normal moods he sometimes went through; the ones they acknowledged but never spoke of…  those that dealt with his past. During these times, the blonde would give him some space, knowing that once he worked through whatever he needed to, he’d seek her out.

“You sure you’re all right?” Rose questioned, approaching him cautiously. He looked pale. “You look kind of peaky.”

“Peaky?” he scoffed. “Rose Tyler, I have _never_ looked peaky; Superior biology, me. I don’t _get_ sick.”

She reached a hand out to touch his forehead, frowning when the alien danced away from her, moving to fiddle with the chameleon circuit uselessly. “Well, if you’re not sick, then there should no problem, yeah? Let me check.”

“There’s no need to check because I am not sick.”

She frowned at him. “You’re breaking out into a sweat.”

“’S hot, that’s all. I should really check the thermostatic cooling system. Aren’t you hot?”

“Doctor-”

“Rose, I’m fine. Really.” He gave her a look, the one that meant he wanted her to let it go. She did, turning on her heel and disappearing into the depths of the TARDIS, only to emerge fifteen minutes later bearing a bowl of chicken soup and mug of tea.

Upon her arrival to the console room, the Doctor immediately turned, regarding the items wearily as she set them down upon the jump seat. “What’s this, then?”

“Chicken soup an’ tea. My mum used to make ‘em for me when I’d get sick.” Rose replied.

He gave her a thin smile and immediately went back to tinkering, seeming much more busy than he actually was… Which was easy to spot when he tightened the same bolt twice. “Thank you, Rose, but I’m perfectly fine.” He hacked a cough and cleared his throat noisily at her raised brow. “See? Just a tickle in my throat. The air’s dry in here… might to adjust the humidifier as well.”

Rose Tyler was unimpressed but decided to let it go. For now. “Right, well I’m going for a shower.”

“Wait, you forgot the soup-” But she had already gone. Narrowing his eyes, the Doctor looked at the ceramic bowl for a moment, heavily debating with himself before finally giving in and eating.

He slurped the broth noisily, too preoccupied with how wonderfully warm the concoction made him feel to notice much else. Which was just as well, because there wasn’t anybody to hear him either way. Sighing, the Time Lord took this opportunity to sit back on the jump seat, closing his eyes and frowning. He ached all over, his head was killing him, and his body needed rest.

But the one thing he even more than rest was to get off this stupid planet. They had been there for a week after the TARDIS’ dematerialization circuit had broken, he was beyond restless. They needed a scrap yard of seedy market place to search for spare parts, but the planet Nebulon was much too ‘green’ and perfect for its own good. Finding the bits he’d needed had been a jab and half, not to mention that they hadn’t been the correct ones. He’d had to twist and tinker with them, soothingly telling his ship that this was only a temporary fix and they’d get her fixed up properly as soon as possible. After the first couple of days, she began to get restless as well.

Forcing himself back underneath the console, the Doctor continued his work. It was no use worrying Rose about his health when this was just a cold… He’d be fine in a couple of days, when they were back roaming the Universe.

The next day had been much the same; the Doctor had refused he was sick despite the fact that he was sneezing and coughing all day, Rose had again made him chicken soup, and again, the alien had waited until she was gone to practically lick the bowl clean. For the second time, Rose picked up the dish but said nothing.

He wanted to deny it? Fine. She knew when to stop prodding him… But that didn’t mean she wasn’t worried. He was eating the food she gave him, good, but he wasn’t getting any sleep.

He needed rest.

However, trying to tell a stubborn, prideful alien that his ‘superior’ biology didn’t exempt him from sleep was like trying to tell a Judoon that you were ‘sorry and didn’t mean it’. The Doctor worked well into the night, tinkering and fixing things that needed to be fixed while Rose lounged around the console room, keeping him company before she grew too tired. It was at this point that the young woman bid her Time Lord companion good night, asking him get at least a couple of hours rest. He had hummed in agreement, obvious in his placation of her.

“Doctor, really, you need to sleep.”

“Not as needy as you are with the whole ‘resting’ thing. Superior biology, remember?”

“No, but you need to sleep sometime… Especially when you’re sick. Why don’t you stop for the night, yeah? We can watch some telly!”

He raised a brow, looking up at her from his place on the floor. “You said you were going to bed.”

“Well, I’m not so tired, come to think of it, and worst comes to worst I can just sleep on the sofa! Come on, we’ll get in our jimjams and watch something good… Didn’t you want to see ‘How to Train your Dragon’?”

“Rose, you were falling asleep on the jump seat.”

She reached down, tugging on his sleeve. “Please? We just haven’t relaxed in a while. I miss…” She paused, biting her lip. She missed cuddling with him, that was what she missed. But could she tell him that? They’d never really called it cuddling before…

“Yes?” the Doctor asked, looking up at her with a somewhat hopeful smile.

“I just… I miss… cuddling with you, is all,” she murmured, trying to sound nonchalant.

His smile grew tenfold and Rose rolled her eyes. “Yeah, fine. Are you coming or not?”

“Coming!” he grinned, “I am most _definitely_ coming… Just right after I finish this.”

“Doctor-” she groaned.

“Rose, this is important! If I don’t finish it now we’ll never leave this planet!”

“But this is a _time machine_. We’ve got nothing but _time_ , Doctor!” He gave her a look and the blonde growled. “Fine. Night, then.”

“Wait! What happened to ‘How to Train your Dragon’?”

Rose shook her head. “We’ll watch it tomorrow. Just… promise me you’ll sleep at least a little while? Please?”

“All right, a couple of hours.”

“Thank you.”

***

It wasn’t until four hours later that she heard from him again. The young woman had been sleeping peacefully when the creak of the bedroom door dragged her from her slumber.  Eyes immediately opening, Rose felt her body tense on high alert: It was rare that the Doctor came into her room at all… Let alone in the middle of the night.

“Rose?” he croaked. He sounded awful.

“Yeah, ‘m here. What’s wrong?” She sat up and blinked in the darkness, just barely making out his shape: a bulky, swaddled outline near the door.

The Doctor shuffled forwards pathetically, sneezing loudly as he did. Rose nearly jumped five feet in the air. “I think... I think I might be sick.”

“Might be?”

He coughed again, rasping out a: “Maybe.”

She was torn between feeling sorry for him, and wanting to smirk in triumph. She chose the former. “How d’you feel? Nauseous?”

“No,” he murmured pathetically, blanket-covered hands cradling his head. “I just hurt. ‘M cold.”

The young woman immediately moved aside, all retributional thoughts gone as she pulled the covers open, beckoning to him. “C’mere.”

He was beside her in a flash, climbing out of his portable cocoon and into bed with her in an instant. The alien cuddled into her quickly, sighing when Rose wrapped her body around him. She was warm. Oh so very nice and warm.

He was sweaty.

Concerned, the blonde pressed her lips to the Doctor’s forehead, frowning when she felt how unnaturally heated his skin felt. “Rose...”

“What d’you need?” she asked seriously, a hand running through his hair.

He didn’t answer her, instead groaning into her skin as the blonde struggled to see him clearly in the dark. “Doctor, talk to me,” she murmured lowly, fingers brushing through the damp strands at his nape in what she hoped was a soothing manner.

He whimpered, pressing his head into her hand in a positive gesture before fixing his eyes on hers almost unnervingly in the blackness. “Hurts.”

“Where?” she asked softly. “Where’s it hurt?”

“Don’t leave me alone.”

“No, of course not,” she murmured delicately. “I’ll be right here the whole time. Forever, remember? I’m never leaving you… Where do you hurt, Doctor?”

“Good,” he replied, voice small. “Golden and sunshine and always.”

There was something seriously wrong. She needed to see him.

“Yes… Doctor? I’m going to turn on the light, all right?” Reaching over, the young woman flipped the switch on the bedside lamp, grimacing when the Doctor dug his fingers into her skin painfully at the brightness. He moaned in agony, tensing unbearably in her arms before Rose flipped the switch again, leaving them in utter blackness. He slowly unwound himself from her, shaking and sweating more than ever. “N-No more, Rose. Please.”

Her heart broke for him as she ran her hands over him softly, cooing: “No, no more. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I promise, no more…” Rose pressed a kiss to his forehead, mind racing. She needed to see if there was anything physically wrong with him. Untangling herself from the sick Time Lord, Rose grabbed a blanket from the edge of her bed and threw it over the lamp, turning on the light. “That okay?”

“Cold,” he whimpered, sitting up. “’S cold.”

He had blue dots all over him. They looked a lot like chicken pox, but they had a shiny film over them and they were _blue_. What if this was serious? What if he needed a doctor? Was there even a doctor who could treat him? Could she fly the TARDIS to one? She had no idea how to help him, could she give him something from the medbay?

_What was wrong with him?_

Taking his face in her hands, Rose funneled his complete attention to her, brows knitting together when his hands clutched at her shirt like a lifeline. His eyes were quite literally clouded and she could barely tell if they were focused. Rose felt her heart jump up to her throat, her entire body tingling in panic. She was completely over her head. Completely. And whatever this was… it seemed serious.

“Doctor,” she said softly, “you need to tell me what’s wrong. I can’t help you unless you tell me. Where’s it hurt?”

He frowned, very obviously trying to understand both the question and what was going on. “Hurts? Where?”

She felt like crying.

The woman in question raised her voice, needing to get through to him. He was delirious. “Doctor, you need to tell me-”

He yelped at the change in volume, holding her tightly and shaking his head violently. “Please,” he whimpered, “no more ring-ring-ringing.”

She bit her lip. Okay, not so loud then. “Is it dangerous, this illness?” Rose whispered. “Will you be alright?”

But he had turned a very pale shade of green and had closed his eyes, groaning as he let go of her and clutched his stomach. “Not good. No, no, no, _not good_.”

She barely had time to reach for the wastebasket by her bedside before he was vomiting.

Her heart went out to him and the young woman rubbed his back soothingly, murmuring soft words of reassurance as he expelled the contents of his stomach, his muscles spasming to upheave bile towards the end. With every retch he’d look at her, brow furrowed like he needed to tell her something important before he’d be right back where he started.

Rose Tyler needed a plan. I mean, this was obviously more than the common cold. But what could she do? Anti-inflammatory drugs for the fever; that was a start, though she’d have to wait until his stomach truly settled. And those dots on his skin, they reminded her of chickenpox… A bath might be in order when he stopped vomiting, and that could also possibly bring down his fever. He was saying he hurt… maybe it was an aching hurt? She could always try giving him massages or something, and see how that would go. She’d also need to keep him hydrated.

Biting her lip, the young woman racked her brain for other things her mother would do when she was particularly ill. When she had the chickenpox they had just waited it out, there had been nothing to be done about it… Wasn’t there some sort of evolved quick fix to this?

He was scaring her.

Closing his eyes, the Doctor leaned his head on the side of the bin, hacking a cough. Pathetically, the alien looked over at his companion, sighing when she resumed rubbing his back. “Better?” she asked softly. He looked woozy, brows furrowing as if he was trying to understand. Rose continued: “You’re burning up. Once you finish here we’re gonna take a bath, yeah? You’ll be all right.”

He had stopped vomiting about a half hour later, but was wide awake and warm as ever. Rose pressed her lips to his forehead, heart sinking when she felt his boiling skin. “I’m gonna go run a bath, okay Doctor?”

He paused and she tried to let the information sink in, knowing that it wouldn’t do any good anyway. He, however, understood the moment she got up from bed. Reaching out, the Doctor clutched at her tightly. “You can’t!” he gasped. “You p-promised you’d never go!”

Rose’s heart broke in two. “I’ll be right back,” she promised, “I just need to run you a bath."

She didn’t wait for his reply before jumping out of bed. She ignored the whimpers that came from her companion, his small groans tearing at her heartstrings. She ran back as quickly as she could, amazed at how quickly he tucked himself into her side, rubbing up against her skin. He immediately relaxed upon contact, murmuring something about warmth and sunshine. Carefully, Rose then managed to help him up and out of bed, the Doctor blinking at her blearily in confusion. “Bath time,” she smiled. “Come on.”

“W-Where?” his teeth chattered.

Rose wrapped a blanket around the both of them, shuffling along with him until they reached the dimly lit bathroom. Upon seeing the filling tub, the Doctor’s face lit up in the dim, his sneeze immediately after making him all the more adorable. “A _b-bath!_ ” he chattered gleefully. “Oh, this is _brilliant_!”

Rose looked on in a sort of anxiety-ridden amusement as the Time Lord shuffled toward the tub, taking the blanket with him. He was just about to step into the water when he realized that he was still swaddled. Rose turned as he dropped the blanket, thinking him safe for the moment as she reached for a fresh towel.

Upon turning back, Rose was greeted with the sight of the Doctor’s bare bottom as he leaned forward, trying to take off his pants. “Doctor, what- Put your pants back on!” He cringed at the noise as her hands immediately came to cover her face, unable to resist peaking out between her fingers.

He was delirious anyway, right?

By this point, the alien had turned back to look at her, frowning adorably. “Rose?”

Oh, he was fit; all lean and hard angles. The woman in question squeaked out a reply, again asking him to put his pants on. But Sick Doctor was not having it. In fact, she doubted the daft man even heard a word she said; he was so out of it. So, he did what anyone would do in that situation… He went to Rose, stark naked, and moved her hands, looking as confused as ever. “W-What’s wrong?” His skin had goose-pimpled and the blonde was using all the self-control she possessed to keep her eyes on his face and shoulders. She rubbed her hands up and down his arms, being careful not to put too much pressure and irritate his spotted skin. “You need to put your pants back on, Doctor.”

“Pants.” He sighed, leaning into her. “I like pants.”

By this time, the Time Lord was all pressed up against her, naked as the day he was born. Rose was trying very hard not to get distracted. Up until now, Naked Doctor had been someone reserved for her dreams… Never mind ‘Naked Doctor Pressed Up Against Rose Tyler’. “I do, too.” She responded, happy that he was at least seeming to understand what she was saying. “Right, back on they go-”

“But they’re cold,” he replied, looking at her seriously. “No. No pants. Just me and Sunshine Rose.”

“Doctor-”

“And also, it’s okay that I am technically naked. Because I think that us naked is a good idea. Don’t you?”

“I-”

He nuzzled into her shoulder, arms moving to wrap around her waist as he shivered… Or was that her? “Clothes are all cold.” A hand snaked under her shirt.

Rose momentarily forgot how to breathe. “Right,” she gasped. “Come on.”

The young woman was surprisingly good about keeping her eyes up as she carefully helped her companion get into the bath. He yelped at the cold and immediately clutched to her again, shaking his head. “No, no, no, Rose. _Too c-c-cold_.”

She pressed her forehead to his, cupping his cheek as she looked at him. Her Doctor: Sick as a dog. “I need to bring down your fever,” she explained. “And I can’t give you any medicine because you threw up a little while ago.”

He seemed to accept this, so Rose made to step out of the tub, almost falling over when the Doctor grabbed her again, dragging her back and nearly toppling them both over. “Where are you going?!”

“I’m just gonna wait with you outside the bath.”

“No, you have to be in with me.”

“Doctor-”

“I need support.”

She frowned. “Sorry?”

“Support! I need… _Oh_ , I don’t feel so good.”

She had brought a bin close to the tub just in case and reached back for it, handing it to the Doctor quickly. He took one look at the thing before pushing it away. “What’s that for?”

“I thought you didn’t feel good.”

“I don’t?”

And they were right back to square one. Biting her lip, the young woman sat down behind her Time Lord companion, hugging him as he shivered again. His hands suddenly reached back, attempting to push away her clothes. “To cold,” he muttered. “No more cold.”

As soon as a hand rested on her skin he sighed in contentment.

“Of course,” she breathed, understanding. “I’m such an idiot! You feel better when you touch my skin.” Her clothes were off in a flash; a soggy pile on the bathroom floor as she wrapped herself around her Doctor, both parties completely naked. Rose didn’t have time to feel nervous or uncomfortable, she was much too preoccupied with worrying about him. Her fears were somewhat quelled, however, when the Time Lord leaned back, pressing himself flush against her with a sigh. “Beautiful, barmy and beautacious bold, basking in golden from my Sunshine Rose.”

She couldn’t help the smile that broke across her face, and boldly pressed her lips to his shoulder blade as he babbled on. He nodded at her action and continued, gesticulating with his hands in the telling of some story that made no sense.  “You’re mad,” she murmured fondly.

“Mad as a hat.” He nodded at her sagely, “Hat on a hatter. Hatter in a box. Big blue box with a little pink Rose! Care for some tea, Alice?”

“Maybe later.”

At that the Doctor turned, sloshing the water about as he pressed himself awkwardly into her, torso contorted so he could hug her. “Why don’t we do this all the time?” he asked, breathing in at her neck. “All the touch-touch-touching.” Her voice caught as she floundered, trying to speak. “Or have we?” he continued, a hand now tangled in her hair, “Rose, Rose, Rose… We do it _all_ the time. _It_ , I mean. Every day and every place. But don’t tell her. She might think it’s gross.” His head cocked to the side as he looked at her, frowning adorably. “Do you think it’s gross?” his brows raised as he looked up at the ceiling. “Because I don’t. I think it’s brilliant.”

“I-”

“Is that a miniature Dunderwhale?”

“…What?”

“A miniature Dunder-dundee-Crocodile Dundee! Oh, that Steve Irwin, what a bloke, eh? Went with all the al-alligators and croc-cocodiles.” He paused then, looking at her eyes intensely. Her own eyes widened as she stared at him, alarmed. “Doctor…?”

He whistled lowly. “You have _beautiful_ eyes. Green and not green and other… what else is colourful?” He thought for a moment before shrugging and starting to move out of the tub, reaching forward Rose stopped him, and the Doctor turned to look at her pathetically: “Too cold, Rose.”

She ran a hand through his hair, stopping to feel the back of his neck and his forehead. He was still much too warm. “Just a tick longer, yeah Doctor?” She began to run her hands over his back and shoulders in soft motions, blushing when she heard him groan at the action. “Nice,” he sighed. “That’s nice.”

They stayed like that for ages until Rose’s body temperature dropped so far she feared frostbite, but it was thankfully around that time when the Doctor’s fever broke. She could tell because not only was he at a more normal temperature, but he began slumping against her, exhausted.

He was crashing.

Rose Tyler thanked her lucky stars and clumsily helped the alien out of the tub, swaddling him in a towel as he swayed on his feet, touching her innocently; just to remind himself she was there. It felt strangely intimate, being touched like that… and not because they were nude. There was something about the Doctor needing her, about him being affectionate towards her that made Rose’s heart want to burst.

Getting him into some fresh pants, the blonde helped her Time Lord into bed, pulling on an oversized shirt and a fresh pair of knickers herself before joining him. Again, he wrapped an arm around her, falling asleep almost immediately after. Rose took the opportunity to run her fingers through his wet fringe, brow furrowed anxiously as her eyes raked over his face. He was scaring her; not in the way that he sometimes did when he got dark and brooding and dangerous, but in a way that made her feel completely helpless and lost.

 _She had no idea what to do_. Biting her lip, the blonde blinked back tears, refusing to cry. She wasn’t ready for him to go. Not when she barely knew him. Not when there was so much more they wanted to do together… But there was nothing to cry about. He was fine. He’d be fine. Besides, crying wouldn’t help anyone anyway. Rose took a deep breath, fingers brushing the shell of his ear. He looked so peaceful here. Even in those rare moments she’d seen him sleep, he’d looked troubled, plagued, _at war with himself_.

But here the Doctor looked serene. Innocent. He looked so _young_.

He’d always been so guarded, even around her, perhaps sometimes especially around her… but now he was completely open. Laid bare. Rose desperately wanted to take advantage. Sighing, the young woman pressed her forehead against his, almost jumping when her mind was immediately assaulted by image and sound. It was a beautiful place, with shining silver buildings and red grass… white-capped mountains and the sky, oh that sky. All different hues of red and orange and yellow with two large big balls of light hanging just above a big glass dome. The city. The Citadel. Gallifrey. _Home_.

And there was a song. A sad song that filled up her entire being and made her want to cry. Swallowing thickly, the young woman pressed her lips to her companion’s cheek, gasping when the images and sound cut off abruptly.

She’d been inside the Doctor’s mind. With him sick, all his defenses were down… he really was laid completely bare before her. And she had just invaded his privacy.

Burying her face in his neck, Rose squeezed her eyes shut. She’d have to be more careful in the ways she touched him henceforth. “Please be all right,” she breathed, “please."

***

It was hours later when the Doctor awoke, eyes cracking open slowly as he groaned, attempting to roll over. Attempting being the operative word. He squirmed slightly, lifting himself up just enough to recognize a head of messy blonde hair.

Rose.

He was caught between jumping out of bed and demanding answers, and simply basking in the glow that was his companion. Truth be told, he never thought he’d share this level of intimacy with her. I mean, it wasn’t often that he slept, let alone in the same bed as anyone else. Let alone in _her_ bed. And especially not _with her_.

Rose sighed in sleep, interrupting his thoughts as she cuddled into him. His hand came to rest on her back instinctively, thumb rubbing softly against the material of her shirt as he memorized every inch of her obsessively.

He seared the image of her against his bare chest in his mind, looking at the way her hair fell against him and her arm was thrown across his torso fast. He focused on the feeling of having an arm around her in such an intimate situation, and the fact that their legs- bare- had become entangled in sometime in the night.

He would never have a chance like this again.

As the Doctor regained consciousness, he was made aware of the fact that both he and his companion were both _very_ naked compared to their normal attire. This in itself was enough to have his imagination running wild, but the fact that he couldn’t seem to remember anything past chicken soup made matters even worse.

He also itched. Oh, he itched something terrible. Right on his back, too… right in that one spot he knew he’d never be able to reach. Turning his head, the Time Lord squinted, looking at his arm through slightly muddled vision. Dots. Blue dots all over his skin. Wonderful.

It was then that Rose stirred, arching into him like a cat as she slowly returned to the world of the conscious, smiling as she blinked her eyes open. “Hello.”

He merely grinned back as he sat up, more than a little shocked when his companion kissed his cheek before sitting back. They’d never done that before. “Feeling better?”

The Doctor nodded, trying very desperately not to get carried away with himself. Because the covers had slipped down and though he was certain now he was wearing pants, he also knew that a t-shirt and knickers were _all_ Rose was wearing. “I…” He started, much too preoccupied with her legs to formulate a proper sentence. She looked at him hopefully, biting her lip in anticipation as she searched his face.

“…Wegs. Legs.” His eyes widened, “I mean: Well! I’m doing… well. And feeling knickers. BETTER! I’m feeling better.” The Doctor took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling as he blew a raspberry, eyes squeezed shut. “Bloody hell.”

A smile slowly broke out across his companion’s face as she looked at him, the Doctor smiling back nervously. Suddenly, Rose threw herself at him, hugging the living daylights out of this gorgeous, wonderful, _semi-coherent_ alien. “You’re back! A little worse for the wear, mind you, probably still not a hundred percent but the main thing is that _you’re back_!”

“’Course I am!” he replied, pausing. “When was I gone?”

She frowned. “You don’t remember?”

“Side effect of Gallifreyan Barabel Pox,” he explained, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t remember anything since chicken… soup.” Another pause and then he was scrubbing at his face, ashamed. “Oh, _bollocks._ ”

“Did it… all come back, then?” Rose asked nervously.

The fact that he turned red as a Cartagare on Jubilee answered that. Not to mention that Rose was sure his ears would catch fire. He, on the other hand, was currently cursing his illness. On any other day, he would have been able to tuck the memories away to deal with at a later date… Preferably when he was unclothed and alone, but because his body had still not completely healed itself, his emotional sphere continued to be practically out of his control.

“Alright, Doctor?”

“Peachy,” he muttered. “Just give me a moment.”

He closed his eyes, tugging at his ear nervously. What exactly had possessed him to rub up against his companion _stark naked_? Well, that was a loaded question. Well, no it wasn’t. He’d been wanting to do that for a while. But he never thought he’d _actually do it_.

“So,” the blonde started, “Gallifreyan Barabel Pox. They dangerous?”

“Nah, perfectly harmless.” He murmured, thankful for the change of subject. “Essentially just the Gallifreyan equivalent to human chickenpox. Except you can get them more than once.” A sigh. “That’s triple helix DNA for you.”

“But you went _all_ …” Rose did a loopy hand movement and the Doctor snorted, calming when she gave him a look. “Seriously,” she continued. “I was worried about you.”

“You were _worried-_ ” The alien teased, nuzzling his nose against hers as he grinned at her widely. He paused momentarily after the action, again incredulous at his own behaviour. This wasn’t him. Well, no, this _was_ him; that was the problem. In this moment, his behavior was one hundred percent _pure Doctor_ : no lies, no protection, no pretending… And that’s what made it so dangerous.

Feeling incredibly brave due to his forward manner, Rose’s fingers absently stroked his side… Which did absolutely nothing to help the Doctor’s rampant imagination. “Of course I was worried,” she replied softly. “I mean, I always worry about you, but this… I had no idea what was happening. I didn’t know what to do or how to help. You could’ve been dying and I just wouldn’t have known-”

He leaned his head against hers, hand reaching out. She was surprised to discover that she could still hear whispers of that song, making the blonde believe that he really wasn’t doing as well as he let on. “You did beautifully, Rose Tyler. And you can trust me on that… I’m a doctor.” Rose smiled and brushed his fringe back, pressing her lips to his forehead to feel for a temperature. She was glad when he seemed to be at the normal sixteen degrees Celsius. “Well, at least you don’t have a temperature any more.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t,” the Doctor explained. “The worst of it passes within the first twelve hours, and the general insanity passes after the fever breaks, mostly because body temperature is so high it ‘fries’ the nervous system… But the damage isn’t great enough to fall into a healing coma.” He squirmed slightly, skin beginning to itch unbearably. “Which is why I’ve still got these stupid. Itchy. Spots. All. Over me.” He punctuated every sentence with an attempt to alleviate some of his discomfort as Rose was jostled around. Putting her hands on his bare shoulders, the young woman stilled her companion, fingers rubbing up and down his skin lightly. “If this is like chickenpox, you don’t want to scratch… We should have something in the medbay, yeah?”

He nodded, cuddling into her, his nose cold against her neck. Rose’s breathing hitched. “Aloe vera gel. The green jar, not the blue one.”

“Right. Back in a mo.” She gave his cheek a quick peck as a parting gift, moving to leave only to find out that she was thoroughly stuck in his grasp. “Doctor?” she murmured.

“Hmm?”

“You need to let go of me.”

He dropped her like a hot poker, red blossoming on his cheeks and neck as he nodded dumbly. “Yes. Of course. Right-o. Sorry. I mean, no. Not sorry. I mean, yes I am sorry but I’m not- D’you really have to go?”

He was looking at her with wide, innocent eyes; itching forgotten in the complete disbelief he felt. At this rate, he’d drive her away by nightfall.

Rose, on the other hand, thought her Time Lord completely adorable. “I’ll be back,” she smiled. Leaning forward, the blonde pressed her lips to his skin again, this time near the corner of his mouth. The Doctor felt his upper lip twitch.

If he didn’t die of embarrassment first, this woman would surely kill him.

As soon as she left, the alien pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, groaning: “Stupid, stupid, _stupid_ …” He fell back on the bed with a thump. Now with Rose gone, the itchiness was back in full force. “Worst sick day _ever_.”

Looking around the room, the Doctor pondered putting on some more clothing. It’d be the right thing to do, for sure; eliminate temptation, as it were… But the more he thought on it, the more the Time Lord _really_ wanted to stay in bed. Rose’s bed. With Rose, if at all possible.

Which, he thought as she entered the room, green jar in hand, was a very real possibility at this point in time. Stupid and dangerous, but _blissfully_ real.

“Thanks.” The Doctor smiled and sat up, reaching weakly for the jar. His arms felt like noodles. Hand the glass object to him, the blonde watched on in amusement. “D’you need any help?”

“No, no, I’ve got it,” he wheezed, trying to undo the cap. Stupid child safety locks. Why did this even have one? It wasn’t as if the stuff was dangerous: It was aloe vera! He’d eaten the stuff on multiple occasions… providing this particular subspecies of the plant was edible, but he’d tasted this gel before and had been completely fine!

Finally getting the stupid thing open, the Doctor took a deep breath, attempting to steady his shaking limbs as he stuck his fingers inside the jar. He hadn’t been lying when he’d explained that the fever had fried his nervous system. It had rendered his body tired and weak, and he hadn’t slept enough to regain his strength.

Gently, Rose took the aloe vera from him, smiling encouragingly. “Let me.”

“Rose, you really don’t-”

“I want to,” she insisted. “We take care of each other, yeah? ‘S what we do.” She didn’t wait for his answer before climbing next to him, gently pushing on his shoulder. He got the message and leaned back on his elbows, raising a brow at her. “Trying to get me in a compromising position, Rose Tyler?”

Uncalled for. That was uncalled for.

The blonde rolled her eyes, though a brilliant smile crept across her face and she bit her lip trying to hide it. “Shut up.” Her fingers scooped out some green gel and she put the jar down, rubbing it over both hands before the appendages touched his skin. Her hands landed one over each heart. “You shouldn’t have helped me, you know,” he said more seriously. “You could have gotten sick.”

“I thought you might die,” she said quietly, “I was not about to let that happen again. Besides, I’ve already had the chicken pox.”

“We were lucky this time. The genetic combination was dissimilar enough that you would have never caught it, but if I’d had a strain of the plasmase thrombocytosis, or the Yardenhertly Sleeping Sickness-”

He squeaked as she languidly moved her fingers across his skin, the blonde making sure cover every inch of him, putting just enough pressure to allow for relief without irritating the blue dots. “You’re, um- You’re very good at that.”

“Thanks,” she smiled. “I used to give Mickey back rubs all the time.”

That was decidedly less good, but the Doctor tried not to think of it… Which wasn’t hard when her hands dropped to his stomach, rubbing in a motion that soothed him almost entirely. He purred.

“Did you just… purr?” the young woman asked, incredulous.

“’Course not! Time Lords don’t purr. We… roar, and grunt and… Oooh, that feels _sinful_.”

His eyes had closed in pleasure and when he opened them, he was looking at a very red-faced Rose Tyler. He was blushing as well, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing for either party. The Doctor was convinced his mind was trying some misguided attempt at suicide, while Rose was sure he was trying to kill _her_.

I mean, really, he had to have been doing it on purpose at this point… and there was only so much a person could take. Brushing it off as best they could, the pair fell into a slightly uncomfortable silence, the atmosphere shifting as Rose focused on the Doctor’s skin. She’d never realized how pale he was; he was also surprisingly muscular despite the fact that he didn’t look it. Not like his last body. Back when he’d had his other face, strength had radiated off him. He had been broad shouldered and well-built… Not like this man. This man looked skinny and lean and gangly with his long legs and wonderful hair and warm eyes. She loved his eyes. Brown had been a change from blue, and though both pairs had been reflected kindness and cold in their depths she loved their new chocolate colour.  He had freckles this time around as well…. They weren’t exactly prominent, just a smattering of light dots over his nose and cheekbones, but Rose adored them all the same.

And this was excluding his fantastic hair.

Her hands rubbed over his arms and every so often, she’d reach over and get some more aloe vera before tracing him once more, habitually causing his skin to goose bump. She took the time to notice things she hadn’t the previous night. Things like: though he was strong and lean, she could practically count his ribs; he had hair on his chest as well as a visible trail below his navel that disappeared into his pants; one of his sideburns was ever so slightly smaller than the other; his hands were wonderful.

She’d known the latter already, but when he’d slipped her gel-covered fingers through his she’d felt it all over again. Rose Tyler wanted to hold those hands until the End of Time. “Can you roll over for me?” she asked.

He obliged her immediately, hearts jumping to his throat when the young woman moved to sit on his posterior. “This alright? It’s easier for me to reach.”

The Doctor nodded, biting his lip to keep the groans from escaping his mouth. She rocked against him unthinkingly as she reached for the aloe jar and he almost choked.

Rose began kneading his muscles slowly, biting her lip when she heard the Time Lord groan softly into her pillow. If he kept going like that, she’d go mad.

She went slowly, hands massaging every muscle until her alien companion was putty in her hands. He sighed and hummed and groaned and moaned at the contact as the blonde observed him curiously, noting what he did and didn’t like and filing away for (hopefully) later use while trying to stay sane.

When she finished, the young woman clambered off of him as he looked at her, bleary-eyed. His companion had reduced him to a pliable, happy mass of Time Lord... Who, at this point, did not possess anything even closely resembling an emotional filter. “You, Rose Tyler, are a beautiful, wonderful, genius of a human being.”

“Am I?”

“Oh yes.” He squirmed over to her, resting his head in her lap as she grinned. He turned his face towards her bare legs and pressed a kiss to her skin, sighing sleepily. “We should do this all the time. Not the getting sick part, just the touching part.”

“I agree,” she replied softly, wiping her hands on her shirt before immersing her fingers in his hair. He purred again. “Next time,” he yawned, “I’ll massage you.” She didn’t have time to reply before he had forced himself up, looking at her earnestly: “Thank you.”

Her heart caught in her throat at his honesty. Because this wasn’t his normal ‘thank you’, this was an all-encompassing appreciation of every action she’d previously taken with him in mind, and every similar action to come. This was an ‘I need you, I love you, and I never want to leave you’ all rolled into two innocent words. This was her recovering Doctor speaking plainly for the first time in what felt like forever. Moreover, it was him speaking plainly about her, and it was a precious gift… Even if it almost certainly wouldn’t have happened if he had been in peak health “Any time,” she croaked.

He smiled brilliantly at her, leaning forward and giving her mouth the lightest of kisses before nuzzling into her neck with a sigh. She knew this action was most likely isolated in their physical relationship and forced herself not to think about it. He was sick. He wasn’t himself. He had no idea what he was doing. “Are you hungry?” she asked quietly.

The Doctor shook his head. “Maybe later.”

They stayed in bed the entire day; talking and laughing and cuddling, occasionally leaving to get food. Every so often, the Doctor would press his mouth to someplace on Rose’s body, sometimes murmuring that it was his favourite place on her. Rose soon discovered that he had many favourite places.

If she stopped long enough to think, she felt guilty… Almost like she was taking advantage. At one point, she’d even told him, the guilt overwhelming her own selfish desire for him. But the Doctor had looked at her, pained. “No, Rose,” he’d murmured, hands cupping her jaw, “Don’t you see? _I’m_ taking advantage of _you_.”

Because couldn’t she understand? Couldn’t she see that even in his slightly debilitated state, he was present enough to be so _incredibly selfish_? He knew she’d follow his lead, he knew she’d be just as pliable in his hands as he was in hers, and he knew that this could not last more than the time it took for him to get well. She wasn’t using him… _He_ was using _her_.

Rose understood: they weren’t going to be like this after he got better. This day was like their own bubble Universe: an isolated moment in time where they could be together without any consequences.

Except that every action has a consequence.

“If you want me to stop-”

“No,” she replied honestly, “...no.”

When they woke the next morning, Rose was nervous. Should she kiss him? Should she go back to being his best mate? Should she be walking on eggshells? He was still lying with her, so she supposed that was a start. Taking a deep breath, the young woman looked at him with a smile, bidding him good morning as he pressed his lips to her hair. 

He was still ill, then.

“Feeling any better?”

The Time Lord grinned. “More than better! Rose Tyler, I am completely healed!”

Her grin faltered, but the Doctor paid her no mind, continuing on his rant. “Amazing, really. I don’t think I’ve ever healed this quickly from the Barabel Pox. Probably thanks to my most _excellent_ nurse- Rose, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” she insisted, pasting on a fake smile, “I’m fine! I’m… happy you’re better.”

But she wasn’t fine. She wasn’t fine because it hurt more than she’d anticipated. She felt incredibly weak and stupid for it.

Rose’s expression made the Doctor want to break every rule he’d ever had to make. Yesterday had been a mistake. Not because he hadn’t enjoyed it, but because this hurt twice as much… Which, ultimately, was why he didn’t want to start anything with her; he knew that once he did, and once he inevitably lost her, the pain would be unbearable. In the end it was selfish, and in the end, it was that very same selfishness that made him kiss her again.

It wasn’t long; a small kiss to her mouth, but it served its purpose. Rose was left wide-eyed as the Doctor pulled away, tugging on his ear. “So-”

She cut him off, kissing him for all she was worth as he fumbled for a moment, hands flailing as his entire body contracted in a mix of surprise and toe-curling giddiness. The alien didn’t even have time to recollect himself before she’d pulled away. “So. Breakfast?”

He grinned widely: “Breakfast.” 

Breakfast didn’t happen for another hour.


End file.
